Harry Phantom – Danny Phantom OR Harry Potter – Summery: AU. When Voldemort was defeated, McGonagall sent Harry to live with her cousins in America, the Fentons. After an accident with the Fenton!Portal, will Harry decide to fulfill the prophecy or let the wizarding world deal with its own problems?
"The ones with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approach… Born, they have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark one as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and one must die at the hand of the other for both cannot live while one survives… The ones with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord are born as the seventh month dies…"
Tibbles was smart. Outwardly, number four Privet Drive was the typical suburban house. It had the neatly trimmed lawn, hedges trimmed exactly to specification and a perfectly whitewashed house.
But when Tibbles looked through the windows, a different story became apparent. The kitchen was spotless; the floor of Dudley Dursley's room was so clean you could eat off of it. Everything was there to specifically simulate a happy, loving home. Yet, Tibbles could see the dark undercurrent in the house.
Tibbles watched one of the windows of number four. The rectangular markings around her eyes warped as her superior hearing picked up the sound of Dudley crying again.
"Petunia!" a male voice shouted. "Get that damned kid of yours to shut the hell up!"
"Yes, Vernon." A female voice said meekly. Minutes passed and Dudley still would not calm down.
"Petunia!" Vernon called again.
"I'm trying, Vernon." The crying did not stop. Tibbles heard stomping down the stairway and then a large smack. Tibbles flinched. The toddler was quiet.
Tibbles jumped off the garden wall and stalked off of the property. She sat by a streetlamp. Far at the end, near number sixteen Privet Drive, the streetlamp went out. The four lamps between her lamp and number sixteen's went out in succession.
Tibbles waited until the lamp she was under extinguished. She looked around. No one was watching. Then, she transformed. Instead of Tibbles there was now an older woman standing there. She was wearing an unusual cross between a suit and a dress. Her black hair was pulled back in a bun and just beginning to go grey at the temples.
Minerva McGonagall turned to the empty street. "It's ok, Albus," she said. "No one is out." There was a ruffling and billowing in the shadows and a wizened old man stepped out. McGonagall turned to him. "Is it true?" she asked. "Are James and Lily actually dead?"
"Yes, Minnie," he said. The man (Albus?) shifted the bundle in his arms to the other side. It began to cry. Minerva immediately took the bundle away from Albus. "Harry?" she asked.
"Yes." Albus said. "I don't know how, but he survived. And," The man took a deep breath. "He's gone."
Really?" she asked. Her attention turned right back to Harry, who had freed his arms and was waving him about. "He's gone?" When Dumbledore nodded, she relaxed.
"Harry is going to his family?" McGonagall used her chin to point out number four.
Harry, staying there? Merlin, his uncle slapped his own child! "I'll take him up," McGonagall said. "I want to say goodbye."
"I'm not sure that was the best idea." Dumbledore said forcefully. "He could get hurt."
"And just what are you saying Albus? I, Minerva McGonagall, co-founder of the Order of the Phoenix, can't protect myself or this child in the 30 feet from here to the front door?" Minerva rose on the balls of her feet to look Dumbledore in the eyes.
Dumbledore reached out to snatch Harry away from Minerva. "Give him to me," the old man commanded.
That isn't Albus! Minerva realized. She balanced Harry on one arm and dove into her pocket for her wand. The not-Albus raised his wand before she could draw hers out. Minerva did the only thing she could think of. She apparated.
Two Weeks Later:
Minerva had no idea where to go. She had hopscotched across the globe. She couldn't leave Harry just anywhere. She re-appeared. She was somewhere in America, she knew that. Some little mid-west town called Amityville or something like that. Ahe looked out of the deserted alleyway she had appeared in. Across the street a neon green sign was being installed. "Fenton!Works…" she murmured, reading the sign.
Fenton… Minerva had some family named Fenton. Her aunt had moved to America when she was in her sixth year. She took a chance. Gently holding Harry in her arm, she walked around the mini-construction zone and up to the front door. She rang the bell.
A well-built man answered the door. He paused, looked at her face and robes, then broke into a smile. "Minnie!" he called.
"J-Jamie?" she asked. "Is that you?"
A voice called from the back of the house. "Jack," the woman called. "Who is it?" Jamie, or was it Jack, ushered Minerva inside.
Jamie/Jack answered her unasked question. "Nickname. Got it in college. My friend Vlad thought it was funny."
"Oh." Minerva answered. The woman who had called out to Jack earlier walked into the living room. She balanced a young boy on her hip and had a little redheaded girl trailing behind. The woman sat down and the little girl climbed into Jack's lap.
Jack motioned to the woman. "Minnie, this is my wife, Maddie." He switched the gesturing over to Minerva. "Maddie, this is my cousin, Minnie Fenton."
"Actually It's McGonagall. I married Rodney last year." Minerva interrupted.
"Congratulations." Maddie said. She gently jiggled the blaket wrqapped lump in her arms. Outside of the baby blue blanket, all that could be seen was a large, unruly mop of black hair. "This is Daniel." She said with pride.
The little girl started bouncing up and down on Jack's lap. "Daddy, what about me?" she asked.
"I didn't forget you Jazzy-Pants." Jack said. "This is Jasmine."
"I'm two-and-a-half," she said proudly. "and I can read all by myself."